


We came into the world like brother and brother (and now let’s go hand in hand not one before another)

by madasthesea



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Bromance, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence, post - A Conspiracy of Kings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 18:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4232013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madasthesea/pseuds/madasthesea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eugenides falls in battle. Costis and Sophos are there to make sure he gets home again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We came into the world like brother and brother (and now let’s go hand in hand not one before another)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from The Comedy of Errors, by William Shakespeare (V, i, 429-430)

A rebellion rose up in the east, mere weeks after Sounis had retaken his throne. Though Attolia was assured it was unnecessary to intervene, the king insisted on riding out with a small force. Once they had arrived on the coast where the rebels were based, it was obvious that the messenger had downplayed the enemy’s force considerably. Sophos’ face, sleep-deprived and wearing a fierce scowl, melted into embarrassed gratitude the second he saw Attolis leading his guard.

The battle went fairly well until Eugenides saw five men, the rebel leaders, escaping to the upper cliffs and presumably an escape. He shouted to Sounis, grabbed Costis by the scruff of his neck, and then sprinted after them. Costis followed immediately and heard panting behind him, presumably from the other king.

The king of Attolia was quick and caught up to the other men quickly, immediately engaging one in combat and dancing away from the others. Costis put on a burst of speed and dove into the fray, Sounis just behind. Constantly looking between Attolis and his own opponent, he killed one man and moved onto the next. To his right, he saw Gen feint to the left, spin the other direction, and sink his hook into the rebels stomach. He looked sick, but blocked the incoming swing from the fifth man easily. 

And then Costis, caught up in the battle, turned his back on the King. Sounis was fighting in front of him, his sword work poor, but enough to keep him alive if he was careful. Costis parried a low swipe from his opponent and glanced up to Sounis again, just in time to see his eyes widen and his face pale. Costis scanned for a wound before he realized that Sounis was looking over his shoulder. At the king.

“Eugenides!” Sophos yelled, just as someone screamed behind him. Costis’ blood ran cold and his thoughts ground to a halt. His opponent took advantage of his distraction and swung high. But Costis now had one goal in mind: get to the king. He stepped into the rebel’s swing, grabbed his wrist with his left hand, and sliced his stomach open with the sword in his right. He had spun to face Attolis before his enemy had even fallen. 

The rebel who had wounded the king was standing over him, panting in exhaustion, his face a mixture of fear and triumph. Costis killed him without a second thought. Then he numbly sheathed his bloody sword and stared in shock.

His king was sprawled in the dirt, without grace for the first time Costis had ever witnessed, blood turning the fine powder to mud. Sophos, his opponent dead next to Costis’, was kneeling at his side. He was shaking. Eugenides was very still. 

“Gen,” Sounis said. “Gen.” His hands went from fluttering over the five inch long gash to gripping the other king’s shoulders and back. “Gen!”

Costis fell next to him, his own hands relying on years of battle-field medicine and pushing on the wound. The king didn’t stir. 

“Attolis!” he called. “My King…” Eugenides’ blood welled between his fingers. “Check his pulse,” he ordered. Sophos was staring at the slack face of the king, his hand on his forehead. “Your Majesty!” Sounis’ head jerked up. His eyes were glossy with tears, his face pale. “Check his pulse.” 

Sounis pressed two shaking fingers to Attolis’ throat. Costis found he couldn’t inhale. Then Sophos breathed a shaky exhale and nodded, bending until he could brush a kiss to Gen’s hairline. Costis watched in silence, relief breaking briefly through the sea of terror, before pressing harder against the blood still seeping from the wound. Then he sent Sounis to find a medic. 

Sophos muttered a prayer to the gods, that Eugenides would live until he returned, then he ran, looking over his shoulder the whole way.

“My King, wake up,” Costis ordered. Gen, being Gen, did not obey. 

Costis wrestled the king out of his embroidered coat and, sparing no thought to the expense, pressed it to the wound marring the king’s stomach. He pushed until he received a small groan of pain.

“Attolis.” There was still no answer. Costis looked down at the pale, still face of his king and felt desperation creep over him. This was the king of his country, whom the queen loved, who held the fate of his people in his hand. And, despite everything that had happened since Costis had punched him, he was Costis’ friend.

Costis took the king’s face in his blood-sticky hands. “Eugenides!” he yelled. He shook him, blinking away the humiliating burn of tears. Attolis didn’t even wake to mock Costis for his lack of respect when addressing royalty or his unusual show of emotion.

Costis bent his head until he could feel Gen’s weak breaths fan across his face. He thought of the night on the rooftops. He thought of the god of thieves, keeping the king from falling. 

“I can’t promise any more gold cups, but if you let him live, I’ll protect him better from now on, I swear,” he choked out. He had sworn himself to the Eddisian god, vowed to serve Eugenides and his patron. So he prayed, out loud and silently, trying to hold the blood back, for minutes on end. 

“Eugenides, please,” he said, over and over, not sure which one he was addressing. And then:

“Costis!” someone shouted from behind him, and he snapped his head to see Sounis, running flat out with three older men struggling to keep up. Costis breathed a thank you to the gods.

After that it was a mess of doctors pushing him aside and yelling, at him and each other, more people coming in a steady, panicked stream until Costis was being shoved around in the crowd. His hand was pulled away from Eugenides, and someone tried to step between himself and the king. He unsheathed his blood crusted sword and snarled at them until they allowed him to stay where he was. Sophos pushed his way up next to him, his own scarred lip curled in fury at anyone in his way, and took Gen’s hand. When he was transferred onto a stretcher and finally carried away from the battle, they each stood at his side and refused to leave it for a moment. 

Attolis slept for three days. 

They were both there when he woke up, though Sounis had been gone more often than not, dealing with the fallout of the rebellion. Gen groaned, and opened his eyes. Upon seeing Sophos and Costis sitting anxiously at his bed side, he groaned again. The queen and a doctor were sent for immediately. 

“When Moira came to me in a dream and said that someone would not stop praying for my recovery, I rather expected it to be my wife, not you two.”

Sophos blushed, Costis’ jaw dropped, and one of the attendants in the room coughed to cover a laugh.

“I assure you, Your Majesty, that the queen has been praying for you with more fervor than I,” Costis finally said. Eugenides let his head fall back against his pillows and laughed.

“Gods all, Costis, you need to start watching your tongue.” It was Costis’ turn to blush, but he didn’t apologize. He’d been sitting with the king for three straight days, and the first thing he did upon waking was insult him. Attolis watched him for a moment in seeming approval of his annoyance, then looked at Sounis, who was slouched forward with his head in his hands, his face hidden.

“Sophos,” Gen said. Sounis looked up and Costis had a hard time reconciling the young man that sat in front of him with the hardened ex-slave with whom he had fought rebels. 

“Why do you have the look of someone who’s just lost a war?”

“Because I thought I had,” Sounis said. Eugenides raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were going to die, Gen. And Sounis and Eddis and Attolia would have been lost.” Attolis looked irritated and opened his mouth to say something, but Sophos continued. “And that’s entirely ignoring the fact that I would be devastated by your death.”

That shut Gen up. He was looking at Sophos with such a look of tender surprise that Costis felt it was not meant to be seen by him. He focused on the intricate carving on the headboard instead. They sat in silence for a long moment. 

“The queen should arrive in just a moment,” Attolis said suddenly. “Sounis, let my cousin who is Eddis know I am awake and bad-tempered as ever.” Sounis nodded, stood and inclined his head to Gen before leaving. “Costis, go to bed.” Costis looked at him affronted. Eugenides was watching him, with an expression that lacked the obvious affection with which he’d looked at Sophos, but still softer than he usually saw. “And stop pestering the gods on my behalf.”

Costis opened his mouth to protest, but quickly realized it was futile. “Yes, my king,” he said instead, a smile barely lifting the corner of his mouth. He stood, bowed to the king, and left to obey his orders.


End file.
